


When fire meets water

by ReginaEPierce



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Angst, Dark Past, Emily!Bodyguard, Eventual Smut, F/F, Flashbacks, Hate to Love, Lesbian Character, Pain, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Politics, Secrets, Self-Reflection, Senator!Jareau, Slow Burn, mentions of past traumas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaEPierce/pseuds/ReginaEPierce
Summary: In her 7 year career as a bodyguard, Emily Prentiss had seen a few clients. Some of them were nice enough, some were protected witnesses, business men, actors, singers, she had seen it all. Politicians were the worst though. Having grown up in a household devoid of love and raised by a firm hand, she had grown weary of any person remotely related to politics. But as luck would have it, her next client would be Senator Jareau. A very unnerving, rude, ruthless yet gorgeous Senator...
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Forced vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! So... Full disclosure: this is my first ever attempt at writing fics so I'm more than willing to take advice and constructive remarks. I hope you like it
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the show nor the characters in it.

Being a woman in the line of law enforcement was never a gift. People disregard you and underestimate you. Combine that with beauty and the respect is gone. Since day one, Emily Prentiss knew that, but she also knew that proving herself as an asset, a valuable one, was the only way she’d ever earn some respect from her co-workers. And that’s how she fought during her 7 years of body-guarding: she never once failed her missions. She was focused, thorough, and most of all, she was fierce.

Today had been a long day, a particularly long week really if she was being honest. Emily loved her job more than anything else. Solely because her life was devoted to it. She didn’t have any romantic distractions much to her friends and family’s dislike. She had tried relationships before, it had not worked out… at all. That was until she found Sergio: her one and only whom she came home to most nights if she wasn’t away. He was the best man she ever had. He never complained when she got home late in the night, never hogged the cover, never yelled because she didn’t have any time to spend with him, he understood her and welcomed her each time with hugs and kisses, purring under her touch. Truly she was gifted with him and because of that, it had allowed her to climb high on the scale of success. This case wasn’t any different, although some may beg to differ…

\- “I’m fine!” Emily said, annoyed by having to justify herself once again and trying to put her shirt back on, doing her best to avoid splitting her newly received stitches open.

\- “You are not fine!” Agent Aaron Hotchner said. “You came running towards danger, Prentiss”.

Emily Prentiss was one of his best agents in the body-guard field and he was not about to let her put herself in danger. It was why, for the past 7 years, he had made sure that she received, amongst her colleagues, the best training they offered. Being the boss meant caring for his men and she was no different. Being a woman in the field could be hard at times, he knew that perfectly but somehow SSA Prentiss had always managed to talk back at anyone who’d try to break her down. He admired her for that. She was strong, fierce and extremely good at her job. He might even add that she was gorgeous too, but that would be highly unprofessional now wouldn’t it?

\- “Something that saved the life of my client” she shouted back in disbelief. What did people expect her to do when she signed up for the BA (Body-guarding Agency)? Her running away like a little scaredy cat? People were really getting on her nerves today.

\- “You’re reckless, you’ll get yourself killed some day”.

\- “Well, we all have to go at some point. Besides, I’m pretty sure my client likes my recklessness, seeing as I just saved her life.”  
Hotchner was all too aware of how they all had to go at some point but with her, it seemed that it came more often than usual. Agent Prentiss was brave to stand up and protect her client in any given situation. She was loyal to her oath and never hesitated to put herself on the line in order to save her client, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried whenever he got a call from the ER.

\- “I’m worried about you. I see you way too much.” Noticing as how his reprimanding her was leading nowhere, he tried another method to try and open up the complex book that was Emily Prentiss.

\- “Hum.. Isn’t this the point of having a job? You going to work every day?”

\- “It is but so is taking time off. How long has it been since your last vacation?”

\- “I don’t need any, Hotch.” She answered bitterly.

\- “Why is that?” He inquired, hoping to get some sort of brutally honest answer from her.

\- “What’s that for a question?”

\- “Don’t avoid answering me by asking me a question. I invented that trick.”

\- “I don’t need a vacation. Doing nothing drives me crazy and after 7 years of working for you, I would have hoped you had noticed.”

\- “Of course, I did. But I also notice that you never go out or take time off for yourself. Tell me, who do you go home to?” Knowing he’d hit a nerve with that particular question, he braced himself, watching her reaction very closely. He saw a look of loneliness and hurt in her eyes but before he could grasp anything else from it, it was gone.

\- “Wouldn’t you like to know…” Teasing him slightly. But if truth were told, she hated that topic, it made her think of her past and she did not want to think about it. She could see that Hotchner was watching her reaction, waiting for her to show something. Which is why, just like she had grown up doing, she made her face unreadable from any emotion.

\- “Come on, you know I’m right. You can’t be stuck with Sergio for the rest of your life. You’re a smart, strong, badass young woman. You can even be funny when you loosen up a bit.” He said teasing her.

\- “Pfff. Your point being?” She asked, exasperated at this point. She was tired, her entire body was aching from the beating she had taken, not that she would ever admit that to anyone, and she just wanted to go home and have a bath. She could see Hotch meant well, he always had. Maybe that was why she felt close to him. Their relationship resembled one of a father-daughter one. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t kick his ass if he pushed her!

\- “My point being that you will be off for the next week. And that’s an order!”

\- “But…”

\- “No buts.” He said, cutting her off and making her glare at him. “Now get your ass out of here before I fire you. Plus, you need the rest after the beating you just took.”

\- “Okay, first of all, I did NOT take a beating, I handled myself perfectly well. Don’t go underestimating me now. Secondly, I knew what I was running towards. I saw an opportunity, I took it and in the end, it saved my client’s life. So, I’d say it was worth it, wouldn’t you?” Defending herself at this point was only an automatism. She knew she wasn’t going to win the argument. His ‘Hotch’ posture shifting to an ‘Agent Hotchner, Director of the BA‘ one that could only mean he was determined with his previous order.

\- “You could have died. Don’t you think you’ve seen enough hospitals for one life?”

\- “I know.” Concern was written all over his face. He really did care for her, so why was it so hard for her to let him in? She trusted the man with her life. He had had her back countless of times. She only knew too well his history with her daughter, Haley, being killed at the age of 25. Just like she was, Haley was fearless and still had been even when facing an unsub who didn’t hesitate to shoot her during a particularly rough case. Leaving her father childless and forever damaged. But she couldn’t be thinking about this right now. That wasn’t the point. She wasn’t Haley and she hadn’t died. The point was that she had successfully saved her client.

\- “See that? This is you distancing yourself from what just happened. Just like you distance yourself from Erin Strauss, ‘your client’ as you so like to call her.”

When she was deep in thoughts or processing a situation, her face was like an open book. Vulnerable to her losing herself in her thoughts, but this was different. He could see herself battling to show an unemotional face. To anyone eyeing her, they wouldn’t have seen anything. Nobody would have noticed the look of hurt that flashed through her eyes, quickly being replaced by a determined look, but he wasn’t ‘anyone’. He knew her.

\- “What does this have to do with anything?”

\- “It means that you keep people at arm’s length. You’ve been her body-guard for almost a year now. But still, you keep that distance by avoiding any personal naming. You need to let someone in.”

\- “I’m just way too tired for that conversation.” Running her hand through her hair and sighing. “I’d like to go home and have a shower. It’s been a long day. I got the job done, the rest doesn’t matter.”

\- “Fine, I want the report of the incident in my mails by Friday.” A devilish smirk appearing on his lips.

\- “I thought I was on vacation?”

\- “You are, but since ‘you’ll drive yourself crazy by doing nothing’, I’m just helping you out a bit.” This was just too good to pass on. Her face in utter disbelief and faked hurt was just priceless.

\- “Oh you’re so generous.” Sarcasm evident in her voice.

\- “Oh I know. Now get the hell out.” Trying to hold onto his anger towards her behavior on the field, proving his point of her having to be more careful. But once he saw the twinkle in her eyes and that small chuckle, he knew he was failing miserably.

\- “Yes, Sir.” She couldn’t help the smirk growing on her lips as she hurriedly exited the hospital room, knowing he could never stay mad at her for too long. After all, she was like a daughter to him.

The drive home felt like an eternity and it had been such a long day she almost rediscovered her building. It was tall, beautifully lit and had the walls of the elevators as glass. To most, it would make them uncomfortable, even sick, but she liked that emptiness, the feeling of floating up in the air. She saw the night life itching to start.

The sky was a dark shade of blue with only few clouds blocking the way to the galaxy. She looked down and watched the cars driving becoming smaller with each passing floor. Being on the 16th gave her time to admire the view and when it came to a halt, she stayed a few seconds longer before quickly exiting, remembering just why she was so eager to come home.

\- “Sergio? I’m home!” she said entering her home. She had to laugh at herself for talking to her cat as if he would actually answer her. “Come on buddy, where are you?” Just as she was hanging her coat, Sergio came running, rubbing himself on her. “Aw there you are. I missed you today. I bet you missed me too, didn’t you? Of course, you did. You’re gonna have plenty of time with me this week, I got kicked out! Can you believe that?” She scowled, remembering Hotch practically literally kicking her out of the ER.

What the hell was she supposed to do for the next few days? Who was going to watch Strauss? God, she hadn’t thought this through now, had she? Although, knowing Hotch, he’ll have found her replacement before she had even reached her car. She had a pretty good idea of whom her replacement would be: Mick Rawson.  
She couldn’t stand the guy. He was everything she hated, it was actually amazing how much he was the perfect definition of each thing she couldn’t stand.

He was arrogant, full of himself, treated women like objects, switching every week and sometimes even several times a week, he was cocky and shared incredibly intimate details about his sexual encounters, mostly about his partners. But most of all, he couldn’t stand the thought of a woman being better at her job than he was; which was one of the main reasons he would try to break her down and disrespected her each time he could.

Now, she wasn’t one to brag (just another thing she hated about him: his incessant need for recognition!) but everybody knew she was a kickass agent who had proven herself many times. She was thoughtful and resourceful. She never – well, almost never – acted irrationally unless she was absolutely certain about the outcome and she was the best shot the BA had ever had. So many things that could make Rawson twitch in a second.

Hotchner couldn’t stand him either but despite his horrendous personality, he was one of the great bodyguards of the BA too. Though, she made it a point to bring him down from the little throne he had attributed himself, Hotch usually had her back. It almost came to hands several times, she wasn’t one to not bite back if she was bitten. And man, did he bite! Fortunately, it had never come to the point where she had fought him but she knew it wouldn’t take much more to send her over that dangerous edge. So, she avoided him as much as she could.

\- “God, you’re on vacation. Why are you thinking about work?” she huffed. Cause that’s all you ever do, said that little voice in the back of her head. “I need a drink!” she growled. Opening a bottle, she thought about getting a glass, but then realized she had no intention of not emptying each and every drop of the deep red liquid inside it.

She then directed herself towards the bathroom, discarding her clothes on the floor on her way. She didn’t care though, all she needed right now was her wine, her bath and the one man who could take her problems away in a heartbeat: Barry White. Jeez, that voice! She found out about her liking jazz early in her youth and her love for it had never stopped growing. Each time she’d feel lonely or just frustrated with work or life, she’d turn on the music, turn down the lights, pour herself a glass of wine and sooth herself in a nice boiling hot bath.

Getting in it, she forgot about it all and enjoyed the sexy comforting voice that was Barry White. Letting the lyrics soothe her, she closed her eyes and listened to the longing ambiance that particular song was bringing. There it is one of her favorites. She felt so compelled by it, she didn’t even feel her hand starting to go down on her body.

How long had it been since anyone had touched her this way? God, she missed this. She wasn’t particularly tactile with her mates but right now, she would have given anything to have someone caressing her. She started letting her mind float a bit while her hand came itching its way down her neck, scraping it gently. It edged its way down her tempting full breast, creating goosebumps on her perfect, ivory skin.

She slowly brought her other hand down her side, taking in a sharp breath as that area was always a sensitive one. Her upper hand pinched her already hardened nipple causing her to hold back a moan. She massaged her full breast, reaching down her toned stomach while her other hand started to gently rub through her wet folds. Even through the water, she could feel herself getting wetter by the second. She slowly probed her entrance, eliciting a moan that she didn’t hold back this time.

Sliding her finger inside her, she arched her back at the feeling, nipples perking proudly while she kept pinching and rubbing her perfect breast longingly. She started a slow pace but quickly fastened it, adding another digit into her core. It had been so long, she was already on the brink of orgasm. She focused on the feeling she was procuring herself and brought her second hand down to rub fast, tight circles on her clit.

\- “Hm.. Fuck!” she cried out. The quick pace of her hand splashing water on the floor but she couldn’t have cared less. She was slowly building herself up towards that point she knew would bring her unhindered bliss. With a few more strokes, she felt her walls tightening around her curled digits, feeling her entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She kept pumping herself, keeping the after waves of her orgasm alive. Bringing herself down from her high, she slowly eased her fingers out of her, groaning slightly at the feeling of loss it created.

Half an hour later, she was showered, relaxed as ever, lightly buzzed from the wine she had drunk and was hidden deep under the covers, Sergio hugging her side.

\- “Well, that isn’t such a bad way of starting a vacation now is it?” she said already half asleep, letting the exhaustion of this last week overtake her.


	2. Day 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter, I hope you enjoy. Again, remarks and comments are welcome if you feel like it :)
> 
> N.B.: I still don't own anything

The next morning was a highly unusual one. Emily Prentiss woke up not due to her alarm clock but due to the sun gently caressing her face. She stretched, purring at the rested feeling invading her and felt at the bottom of her bed, right next to her feet a small warm moving weight.

\- “Hey babyboy, cm’ere”, she said in her raspy morning voice. She got out of bed, Sergio in her arms and went on to make some coffee. She always craved the brown liquid in the mornings, the warmth brought a comforting sense she had grown accustomed to.

As the day went by, she decided to go for a run, enjoying the light of the morning sun touching her skin. She then proceeded to shower, have breakfast, wash the dishes, tidy her room, living room, organise her spices, her casseroles until she found nothing else to do. As she was sitting on the sofa savoring her wine, Emily looked around her now tidied and clean apartment. She switched her TV on, going through each and every channel, but founding nothing to occupy her mind.

\- “Why exactly do people take time off?” she asked bored to the soul, standing up to go rinse her wine glass in the sink. “I’m gonna drive myself crazy!”

As she walked back in front of her office, she stopped and slowly opened the door. It was tidied as well, but unlike the other rooms, that one had always been that way. She stood in the doorway taking in the large wooden desk she had received from her grandfather. It had been such a long time since she had come in her office. She decided it could use a touch of cleaning as well. It would at least occupy her for the next hour or so. Going back to the kitchen to get a cloth and some warm water she started off with the desk. She sat down in her chair, swirling it around and proceeded to dust every object off of it, carefully placing them on the window.

\- “Wow, I really should clean this room more often.” She found a few pictures of her years at Interpol in the bottom drawer and started looking at them when a shiny item at the bottom of the drawer caught her eye: a necklace.

She felt an odd feeling, reaching absentmindedly over the small burn in the shape of a four-leaf clover hovering the top of her right breast. Some old memories were threatening to resurface and she was in no way ready to face so she quickly pushed them back in that little corner of her mind.

Putting the picture back down, she closed the bottom drawer, kept on with her task and by nighttime, she was all finished with cleaning. She had never been a big fan of cooking, she wasn’t bad at it, but she just didn’t find any pleasure in it. So, as usual, she found herself ordering Chinese take-out. She put on a rom-com DVD and made herself comfortable in the sofa, Sergio purring on her covered feet.

She wasn’t one to like soapy things, but she found that old romantic movies were her favorite. The bridge of Madison County was no exception. She had watched it so many times she knew every line but still, there was that feeling the movie left her with each time that was indescribable. Movies were her weakness. She knew it, which is why she rarely watched them with people.

Many years ago, she had built up a wall around her emotions, swallowing them whole each time the situation got unbearable. Emily had never been the complaining type, she did as she was asked no matter her state. Even in her prior life, she had endured more than any 32-year-old should but nobody had ever heard her talk about it or noticed any emotion in the rare occasions where she did open up.

Growing up with an ambassador as a mom and an absent father hadn’t been the easiest childhood anyone could ask for. She had moved around a lot, a direct cause to her being able to speak 7 different languages. Never staying in one place more than a year at a time, it was hard to grow roots somewhere. It was probably why she was so solitary and had trouble connecting with people and opening up to them. Which is probably why movies were her escape. She didn’t have to pretend, she could let her emotions get the better of her without worrying of what it might mean for her to cry. She’d sometimes let go and cry herself to sleep, blaming the emotions the movie had brought her without second guessing the meaning behind those tears. It was just easier than dealing with her demons.

Watching the movie, she found herself drawn to the main character: Francesca. Meryl Streep being the amazing actress she was moved around owning each scene she played. The simplest task, such as a cooking scene, would be empowering. The woman owned the stage, her elegance floating and touching each soul. The story, though a beautiful one, was also one of the saddest. Unlike other romantic movies, that one didn’t bring its character together, life being what it was and taking over the fantasy.

Francesca was an unhappy housewife and mother of two. She had always dreamt big but never fulfilled her dreams until a particular encounter changed her life. She met Robert. He was a photograph who lived by no rules nor roots. He was free and travelled all around the world, taking pictures of the most beautiful landscapes, capturing the emotion written on faces he would never see again. He was the freedom she had always wished to have. They had fallen in love together, but Francesca, being married, had not found the courage to leave her husband and kids and spent the rest of her life broken-hearted, wondering where her true love was, wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t stayed.

Maybe the idea of freedom was what had made her love that movie. The idea of being whomever she wanted to be, the idea of a clean slate was compelling. She had had one once before, but it had left scars, some literally but some also mentally. Her freedom had been taken away, her identity had been tarnished and destroyed, leaving behind nothing but a trail of ruins. She had been given a new name, a new passport and with it, a new life. A second chance. Only nobody could actually know about that second chance. The only reminder of her existence being a gravestone back in Paris. It was only when the ending theme played in the background that she realized she had drifted her focus off the movie and found herself standing in front of her office door, for the second time that day.

\- “God, I need to get some rest. Get a grip, Prentiss! It’s just a necklace.” she mumbled, rather annoyed by her behaviour. “Actually, it’s a necklace that should’ve been long gone.” Opening the door, she made a beeline for the bottom drawer and pulled out the object of her troubled mind. She pulled it out, taking in the design she had once worn daily around her neck. “I will always find you, love.” Shivering at the suddenly remembered words, she placed it back in its place and went to bed.

\- “One day down, six to go.” If today wasn’t proof enough, this week was going to be one hell of a long one. She decided if she was going to make it through the entire week before barging back in the BA, she had to find something to occupy her thoughts and she had to do it fast. As her mind was made up on a busy schedule she would organize the next day, she let the exhaustion of the day lull her to sleep.


	3. Day 2

Sitting on the sofa, a sheet of paper in front of her and pen in hand, she proceeded with the said schedule but found herself not being able to write anything down other than “run” in the morning and “gym” right after lunch. She stood there, shocked by her lack of social skills.

\- “You are truly hopeless” she said standing up to admire the view as the sun started its slow journey across the sky. Thousands of families slowly going about with their day and here she was, alone in her luxury apartment and not finding one damn thing to do. Looking down at passing cars, she spotted something.

\- “Restaurants!” she exclaimed. After all, it was known that it was a fine way to pass time and enjoy some company, or yourself in her case, when on time off. “I should probably call PG.. She’d know where to find me some.” Walking back to her bedroom, she took out her phone and call the number she had on speed dial.

\- “Speak and be heard, oh you mortal.”

Penelope Garcia was one of those people you could definitely call unique. She was the light in each storm and could always find the right words to calm her. She was this petite extravagant looking woman who would always colourful clothes and her never-missing heels. Penelope was and had been her best-friend for so long, she had trouble remembering a time where the small blond hadn’t been in her life. Garcia was the tech analyst of the BAU for the FBI and they had met when she was still working for Interpol and had been asked to fly in to help for a case. They had recruited her after finding out she had hacked into the CIA database to find Prince William’s private phone number and had, very fortunately, failed at the task. Nonetheless, the FBI had then proceeded to offer her a job: her skills being put to good use.

\- “PG, I need your help with something.”

\- “Well, you have knocked on the right door, my raven-haired princess. What can I do for you on this fine Tuesday?” Emily had to smile at the term of endearment. As far as Garcia was concerned, she seemed to be an endless pit of original names to call her and other people. 

\- “Do you happen to know any of the fine restaurants in the area?”

\- “Oh my my! Have you finally found the path to the living people? Got a hot date?” she rushed excitedly.

\- “Aw.. You’re still hopeful. You’re sweet! So do you know anything?”

\- “Well, first of all, I am the Queen of all knowledge, I’m typing away as we speak. Secondly, I am always going to be hopeful because I have found my sweet and beautiful chocolate god of thunder and so will you!”

\- “Hum.. Last I checked, you guys weren’t even together” she reminded her.

\- “Yet! He just has to open his beautiful sexy eyes, but that’s beside the point, deary. The point is: you deserve someone in your life, Em.”

 _Here we go again…_ Penelope, as her best-friend, had always wanted the best for her and could not understand how she didn’t want to find the love of her life.

\- “Pen…”

\- “No no no, do not Pen me. I am so right about this and you, my sweet skirt chaser, will find the one soon. I can feel it.”

\- “Okay, whatever you say. Have you found something?”

\- “Have I found something?” she uttered in disbelief and chock. “Oh you truly are hurtful sometimes, my love. Of course, I did! And I’ve already sent a bunch of addresses to your mailbox, sweet pea.”

\- “May you forgive my unsubtlety and accept my apology and thankfulness for your thorough researches, my Queen.” She humbly said.

Emily rarely allowed herself to be the actual her but that was one of the tech analyst’s gift as well. Emily didn’t feel like she had to put up walls around the perky woman. They had been through hell and back in such a small time, Penelope being there for her in times she was still having a bad case of PTSD. Flashbacks wouldn't leave her alone and would appear any time of the day. A sound, a figure, a shadow, an alley, anything would throw her back in that small room, strapped down an uncomfortable bed and stripped down to nothing. At first, all she could feel was that scalpel piercing her flesh, his horrid smile, his ash-like smell. It had taken her a while, but she felt rather proud to have fought and survived. And, while Pen hadn't actually been told what it was all about, Emily didn't kid herself on the fact that she knew. A hacking genius such as herself would have a feast digging into that story. Fortunately, if Pen knew, she never once commented or asked questions and, for that, Emily couldn't have been more grateful. 

\- “You are forgiven and ever so welcome, my beloved mortal. But may I inquire as to why you need those addresses if you’re not going on a date?” she inquired shamelessly.

She had never been one to respect other people’s privacy. In her defence, how could she? Being a hacker allowed her to daily look through personal details of people’s lives because, as all of us have found out at some point: people lie. But databases and records don’t.

\- “Hotch asked me to take the week off. Well, more like he forced me to and I’m going crazy here Pen.” she whined.

\- “I will never understand how one cannot like time off. You are something else! But, that being said, how long have you been off?”

\- “Since yesterday. He kicked me out of the ER and told me I couldn’t go back un…”

\- “Wow wow wow, hold your horses! Rewind to the ‘getting kicked out of the freaking ER’ part, please. What happened and how is it that I was not called? I am your emergency contact. What a bunch of idiots! See? You give them information and they are unqualified to do anything with it…” As she rambled on, Emily couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's antics. Penelope Garcia was a passionate, that was for sure! She always got so worked up when she found out that Emily had been hurt. “They shall receive my wrath as I shall hack into their system and make their life a living hell!” she ended her monologue with a big growl.

\- “Garcia, you do realize that hacking into their system is going to be endangering other patients, right? Besides, they didn’t call you because it wasn’t an emergency. Just a couple of stitches on my side but that’s it. No need to worry, doll-face.” She answered back softly, smiling at her caring rambling.

\- “Hmm.. You know I hate it when you’re right. But I will hack into each and everyone’s mailbox and send a threatening email if they don’t call me the next time you’re hurt. They do not want to get it on with me!” she reprehended strongly, typing as fast as the wind on her computer.

\- “Or, I could promise you to call you if something else happens. How about that?”

\- “Keep talking.”

\- “I promise to call you should I find myself in the ER with the smallest contusion ever found as to alleviate your caring heart from so much worry.” She answered in a solemn tone.

\- “You better do it, because I know where you live and you may be an ex-Interpol agent and current bodyguard but I can kick your butt anytime I want!”

\- “I hear you.”

\- “Now that we’re both clear on this. What does the fact that you were forced to take time off have anything to do with the restaurants inquiry?”

\- “Because, my dear, as I said, I’m driving myself crazy over here. I’m wandering around all day not doing anything. Well yesterday I cleaned my whole apartment and tidied every damn room.”

\- “So you’re gonna go to the restaurant… alone?” she asked dubious.

\- “Yes, I am. I figured I might as well enjoy some of the finest dishes in D.C. like normal people do. I’ll take the time to be with myself.”

\- “Right, cause you haven’t been doing any of that for the last 32 years.”

\- “Garcia…” she answered in a warning tone, silently telling her friend to let it go.

\- “All right all right.” Knowing all too well her friend’s love for privacy. “Well, have fun and I have some time off next month so I will be dropping by your palace, princess. Which is why you, my beautiful, better be ready for a girl’s night out.” She said playfully.

\- “When have I ever refused you a girl’s night out?” she asked trying to hide her excitement at the thought of seeing her colourful friend, whom she hadn’t seen for what seemed like an eternity. Seeing as Penelope lived in Quantico and herself in D.C., it wasn’t always easy to find time but they had managed for the past 10 years.

\- “Very true. That is one thing you do not refuse, ever! But do me a favor though… Tonight, or whichever night you chose to go out, you will do me the honor of pampering yourself for that restaurant. Go all out! And then, you will go out in a fancy bar and get your groove on.” She could hear Emily letting a long breath out on the other end of the line but kept on going, more firmly. “Let go for a night, Em! When was the last time you got some?”

\- “Penelope!” she reprimanded in false shock.

\- “Oh come on, does it need reminder that I have seen you getting it on with some hot chick on the dancefloor, and so countless times. Dear lord, your hands were literally everywhere so do not even try to fake your innocence right now, missy.”

She thought of something to answer, but as the memory came rushing back, she found herself back on that dancefloor with the beautiful woman in front of her. She couldn’t deny Penelope’s antics: her hands had indeed been roaming shamelessly everywhere.

\- “You’re lost in the memory, aren’t you?” asked the tech-girl proud to have found a way to remind her friend she very much needed to get laid and let herself feel for a night, or two for that matter.

\- No, I wasn’t.” she lied miserably. Truth be told, she was indeed of a good workout in a non-solo way. She sighed, surrendering herself to the inevitability that she was going to have to socialise more if she wanted to get through this week without driving herself mad. “Okay it maybe, just maybe, has been a while since I was with someone but I don’t have time!”

\- “Well now you do, so do as I say and I will be tracking your phone and car so don’t even think about dodging my request!” she threatened.

\- “I wouldn’t dare…” she answered truthfully, knowing it was better to stay on the good side of the hacker. She might have been sweeter and truer than any of the people she knew, but she was also one of the most stubborn one too and she knew better than to defy her. Especially when her hacking abilities were involved.

\- “Good! Now scoot and stay your beautiful, loving and funny self.”

\- Bye PG. Thanks again.”

\- Anytime, sweetness.” She answered rather proudly. Emily was pretty sure her best friend was having a victory dance right now, so proud of herself to have found a way to get her friend to let loose.

With that she ended the call and went to grab her computer, checking her inbox for the said waiting mail. She browsed through the list and decided she’d travel around the world each night. Opting for Japenese and its finest sushis tonight, she found a beautiful and classy Italian restaurant for Wednesday, a Greek one for Thursday, a French one for the next and decided she would pay a visit to her friend in Quantico on Saturday night. A surprise she knew would delight the ball of energy that was Penelope.

\- “So I guess I’m going out tonight…” she said, resolved to follow the orders.

She was about to close her computer, when she heard a*ping*. Opening her inbox again, a new mail was awaiting her and, with it, a list of bars and lounges appearing with a _“Get it on, girl!”_ at the end. She had to laugh, that woman was truly relentless.


	4. The scars that leave us bare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, albeit a short one, I thought I'd dig into the character a little bit.
> 
> There's a bit of angst and mentions of past trauma and flashbacks. Nothing too deep, but I thought I'd warn. We'll dig into that later but I'll give a heads up :)
> 
> N.B.: Still own nothing

As she walked out of her restful shower, she stopped in front of the now fogged mirror and, wiping it with the back of her hand, observed her reflection. Her big brown eyes intensely scanning her face, she let the towel drop to the floor, leaving her beautifully naked. Tilting her head to the side, she appreciated her body. 

Going down her slender neck, she focused on her collar bone, only to roam down on her breasts, two full and firm masses most women envied her for. She had always appreciated a woman who loved breasts and could appreciate them. Her nipples hardening from the memories those particular women had made. Women were her weakness, always had been. Their sensual curves and forms, each of them was enticing her. They were so complex, full of colours and charming. She had always wanted to just dig in and show how delicious they could be. 

She was lost in thought as she remembered her love conquests and, suddenly that pleasing sensation turned to ashes, sweet moans were replaced by sadistic laughs, gentle curves by muscled bones, musky scents by alcohol and cigarette after tastes. She closed her eyes, willing herself to make the memories disappear. She was stronger than this.  
\- “He’s locked away, you’re safe”, she kept telling herself like a mantra. 

Opening her eyes, she couldn’t help but look at her breasts. Yet the appreciation she felt earlier left a bitter taste in her mouth, bile rising, making her shiver and having her grip the edge of the sink. Her vision fell about two inches from the tightened buds on the dark grey four-leaf clover shaped on her skin. Bringing her hand to touch it sent shivers down her spine. The design in itself was beautiful, elegant intricate leaves. But, to the touch, the rugged lines of a scar marred the otherwise perfect ivory skin. Maybe she had two weaknesses: women and that particular tattoo.

‘Emily Prentiss has no weaknesses, never had and never will’ was one of the sentences she had most heard being said about her. People tended to think of her as a stone, never showing emotions. It was a consequence of her keeping to herself. It was easier that way. Keeping people at arm’s length meant she had no worries but for herself and her client. She didn’t have to pretend or force herself into awkward conversations or nights out. She could be cold, and her stare could turn the best of men into squirming messes. They never tried to look past the icy exterior and started calling her the Ice Queen. She never tried to correct them either and, truthfully, was more than okay with letting them think that. At least it got her the distance she craved and the respect she had earned. 

Very few people knew the loving and caring part of her. In fact, Penelope and Derek, the so referred to as the 'sexy chocolate god of thunder', were probably the only ones. She wasn’t good at mingling. But somehow being around one of the best profilers in the world had allowed her to feel safe enough to let her guard down and to be herself. She could trust them, she didn’t have to explain what was going on, they could feel it and yet, not once had they pried into her emotions. It was a refreshing feeling really: feeling at peace with people knowing about what’s going on with you. Why was that? She would be running for the hills for people even close to seeing right through her, yet with her two best friends, she trusted them with her life and enjoyed the feeling of being seen. Being cared for. Being understood. And, most of all, being respected. 

Having an ambassador as a mother hadn’t helped her with her being understood and had only increased her secrecy. Every inch of their life had been scrutinised, inspected, followed. She had travelled all around the world never finding a place to call “home”. Her mother never really cared for her and she would leave her alone sometimes several days in order to run some big international summits. Her dad had never been in the picture. Her mother says he didn't want to be tied down by a kid, but she has always had the inkling that it was her mother who drove him away. Having a daughter was hard enough as it was, yet easier for she only required to be enrolled in school. A husband however would slow her down with his job-hunting processes and would mean compromising in situations she had no intention of negotiating. No, it was better to keep her daughter and shape her as she pleased. And shaped her she had... Telling her how love was weakness, how weaknesses were meant to be buried and never to be shown, how caring meant compromising and compromising led to ruined carriers. Her mother had pushed her to the best of her abilities. She had aspired Emily to become a politician just like her, had thoughts of her becoming President one day. She had pursued neither. "What a disappointment" were her mother's words to everything she ever did. Add the fact that she was gay and you had yourself a case of the worst disappointment in human History. 

That being said, her mother had raised her to be strong and of character. To not let people tell her what to do and how to act. She was to dominate the world not crumble at its feet. Which is why she had decided to join the forces. Her mother had disapproved, of course. "Why would you surround yourself with sweaty men running around carrying guns all day? Such an unfulfilling job and waste of abilities", she had said. Yet, Emily stood her ground and quickly found herself evolving, giving her best in each training and climbing her way to the top agents. Interpol had followed her journey and recruited her just as she was getting out of the Police Academy. From that point on, Interpol had become her life. Her skills in languages and her ability to compartmentalize better than others had brought in cases that were harder each time, but she always got the job done. Even if it meant costing her her life and it nearly had. 

Death has its way of scaring you, but as in each horror movie, it also draws you in and you can’t help to wander towards it, needing to find out what it is all about. Needing to know for sure what the sound in the other room is. And she had a habit of running towards Death. She felt it worth it when the outcome was positive and saved lives, yet she couldn't care about what damage was brought to her with it.

Death almost had her. Its hand ran mid air, almost caressing her skin, turning her soul to ashes. Readying itself to have her. And Death almost did have her. That infamous night, almost 8 years ago. With the one ghost that would forever haunt her no matter where she was, having left its print deeply engraved in her. Ian Doyle. That name could make her knees buckle and raise her heartbeat to concerning highs. Her last case as an Interpol agent. A case that would alter her in a way no one thought possible. That night, she lived through the impossible. That night, ghosts came out of the shadows, taking pleasure in tortures she had never imagined. That night, something inside her changed and with it, Lauren Reynolds died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The Night out!
> 
> May take a bit before I update since my exams are coming, but I do intend to keep the story going, so no worries (for those of you who might be)! Happy holidays everyone! :)


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